


World's First Meet-Cute

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aromantic Anathema, Established Relationship, M/M, Realization, Tea Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 20:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20699561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley spend an afternoon at Jasmine Cottage. Anathema is a good listener.---"At the airbase, you started to tell a story.""Yes," Aziraphale confirmed, although he might have called it The Story."From the Garden of Eden?""Indeed.""Would you like to pick up where you left off?"





	World's First Meet-Cute

**Author's Note:**

> I swore to myself years ago that I would never write Good Omens fanfic, but here we are. I saw a tumblr post and had to write it.
> 
> This blends book and tv show canon a bit and features my aro!Anathema headcanon briefly.
> 
> (Also I wrote this on my phone at 1am, and it's unbeta-ed. If you see any typos, please let me know!)

"Aziraphale..."

  
Aziraphale _hmm_ed in acknowledgement, setting his teacup delicately back onto the patio table. That was a tone of voice that said _I'm going to ask something that may be personal or uncomfortable, so brace yourself_. It was the tone of voice that piqued his curiosity and made him give it his full attention.

  
Anathema's eyes were not on him, but somewhere in the distance past Aziraphale's shoulder. If he had to guess, it was where Crowley and Adam sat beneath the singular tree in Jasmine Cottage's backyard. Aziraphale hadn't the slightest clue what they were doing, but they seemed to be having fun, if the occasional laughter that drifted over was any indication.

  
She hesitated -- not from nerves, for Anathema didn't seem to get nervous -- scared, certainly, but never so unsure as to be nervous -- but choosing her words carefully.

  
"At the airbase, you started to tell a story."

  
"Yes," Aziraphale confirmed, although he might have called it The Story.

  
"From the Garden of Eden?"

  
"Indeed."

  
"Would you like to pick up where you left off?"

  
Aziraphale struggled to contain his grin. He would have loved nothing more, and almost said so, but a startled laugh and much softer "very good" from behind him cut him off before he started.

  
Instead, he said, "I would, but I'd much rather tell a slightly different story."

  
Anathema raised her own cup to her lips with the poise of someone trained extensively in etiquette in their youth, who hadn't quite broken such habits. "Go right ahead." She took a sip. "Honestly, I'm fascinated by the stories you could tell."

  
"Oh, this one might not be so interesting, I'm afraid. As you know, in the beginning, there was a garden. I don't think I need to tell you what happened there. Most versions of the Bible get it right, more or less, even if they leave out a few details."

  
"Such as?"

  
Aziraphale didn't try to hide his smile this time. He was so pleased to have an engaging audience.

  
"There's a missing verse of Genesis, for instance. I've only found one Bible that includes it. You should stop by the bookshop sometime, if you want to see for yourself, although it is fairly unremarkable, if I do say so myself. It does, however, mention the angel guarding the Eastern gate of Eden, and all versions I've personally come across mention the Serpent, of course."

  
"Of course," Anathema echoed.

  
Aziraphale took a breath, and then another drink from his cup, arranging his thoughts. "The stories the Bible tells are about humans, primarily, so it fails to mention how the Serpent and the Guardian of the Eastern gate met on the wall of Eden, shortly after Adam and Eve were cast out."

  
Anathema said nothing, but her eyes were focused, urging him to continue. So continue he did, telling the story of how the Serpent slithered up to the Guardian and struck up a conversation. How they both wondered if they'd done the right or the wrong things. How the Serpent became intrigued and the Guardian concerned, and they took shelter from the first rain together.

  
Aziraphale paused there, knowing he'd likely wax on and on forever about every time he and Crowley met over the ages if he didn't stop to think ahead, and Anathema didn't want to hear all of that, surely.

  
"You know," Anathema said at length, "my grandmother used to say she likes to sit crooked and talk straight."

  
What a charming turn of phrase, Aziraphale thought.

  
"You don't need to talk around what you're trying to say."

  
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

  
She leaned forward, as if about to disclose a scandalous secret. "May I make an assumption?"

  
"By all means."

  
"I think you've been hiding for so long that it's second nature. If you wanted to tell the story of how you and Crowley fell in love, then just tell it."

  
Aziraphale straightened up, slowly, nearly imperceptively. His eyes darted around them as if expecting to find someone eavesdropping in the bushes, but all he saw was Anathema across from him, looking as calm and relaxed as ever. Another exclamation from Adam behind him shot ice through his veins before he consciously recognized the sound.

  
Anathema leaned back and raised an eyebrow as if to say _See? You're still scared._

  
How long had it been since Armageddon? Since he and Crowley had been more or less fired? Since they finally gave into the ever-demanding Thing between them, now that no one was watching? It felt like days and decades all at once, but as Aziraphale forced himself to relax, he knew it would take much longer until he took this relative safety for granted.

  
Thankfully, Anathema took from him the responsibility of continuing the conversation.

  
"You know," she started, eyes once again drifting over Aziraphale's shoulder. "I've never been in love, so I don't exactly know what it's like. But I remember being a kid and loving something so much that I just wanted to tell everyone everything I knew about it. I was really into rock music from the Sixties for a while --the Sixties specifically. Don't ask me why. And would bring it up all the time, even if it was only slightly related. And I remember adults being so aggravated with me and changing the topic every time." Her gaze finally slid back over to focus on Aziraphale. In that precise moment, he wished it was anywhere else. "It hurt, of course. Having all this love and passion for something, and knowing that no one cared to listen."

  
She paused, and Aziraphale's anxiety took over in wake of the silence. "I'm afraid I dont know much of modern music, but I'm always a willing ear, and Crowley --"

  
"That's the point. Aziraphale, have you ever been able to talk to anyone about Crowley?"

  
A part of Aziraphale claimed _Yes, of course,_ thinking of the countless humans he'd held polite conversations with over the course of history. Often, these conversations were more focused on those humans and their lives, their troubles or good fortune, but occasionally there was a gentle or protective or otherwise sympathetic soul who inquired about Aziraphale personally, and what did he have to talk about besides his job, vaguely, and his one semi-constant companion?

  
But saying so felt like a lie. Even when he could honestly call Crowley his friend or partner or whatever he was comfortable with on a given day to a stranger's face, there was always an undercurrent of deception. It was never _Crowley the demon and Aziraphale the angel, two halves of a whole, on their own side, 6000-year-long slow-burn love story_. It was always _the human A. Z. Fell and his friend-maybe-more of ambiguous gender, creed, nationality, and everything else._ And forget when heaven called on him. He may have thought heaven was right at the time, but denouncing Crowley like that still left a bad taste in his mouth somehow. Even just now -- the Serpent and the Guardian. He hadn't even realised he was doing it.

  
So Aziraphale shook his head.

  
Anathema smiled warmly at him, but her eyes betrayed her pity. "So, talk to me. Tell me about the world's first meet-cute."

  
Emotion welled in Aziraphale's chest, a very similar feeling to the sensation he felt upon first entering Tadfield -- tangential, but not exact, to sensing love. How could humans, even after all this time, surprise him with their compassion?

  
Aziraphale smiled. For the first time since they parted this afternoon, he glanced back at where Crowley and Adam sat beneath a tree older than any of the humans here. Crowley was gesturing animatedly, his voice too low to make out the words from a distance, as if disclosing all the secrets of the universe. Adam sat enraptured and highly amused. He may not have been the antichrist anymore, but he still knew more than he let on.

  
At length, he turned back forward and picked up his teacup, the contents of which were miraculously still warm.

  
"Certainly, my dear, but how much time do you have?"

**Author's Note:**

> The tumblr post in question: 
> 
> https://ilarual.tumblr.com/post/187568133386/ilarual-okay-but-really-the-more-i-look-over


End file.
